


You Missed A Spot

by sweetbutterbliss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Car Sex, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbutterbliss/pseuds/sweetbutterbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is shirtless and damp, wearing only basketball shorts riding low on his hips.  Stiles licks his lips and watches Derek lean over the hood moving the torn up t-shirt in circles, his muscles flexing smoothly underneath his skin. Stiles wants to feel the movement underneath his hands, feel the way Derek is made. Take him apart and put him back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Missed A Spot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HTH31](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HTH31/gifts).



> This is a berfday present for Heather. She wanted a Sterek version of [this](http://www.laughness.com/hood-sex-print.1511).."but with less boob."
> 
> beta'd by Ryn and Ficsagogo, thank you so much for your help. Anything you don't enjoy blame on me ignoring their suggestions.

Stiles finds it surreal when he catches Derek doing regular every day _human_ things. Sometimes it's hard to shake that big bad wolf who lives in an abandoned train car version of Derek he has in his head. 

When he caught him folding his underwear, like a gigantic weirdo, he laughed too long. Until Derek had thrown balled up socks at his head blushing. He'd stumbled down the stairs after their first time to find Derek wearing an apron that said "Miss Lovett's Meat Pies" and covered in pancake batter. 

Derek makes the best pancakes, chocolate chips and everything.

But this is too much. 

Stiles flails his way out of the jeep worried that his head is going to explode. Derek has gotten the Camaro out of storage and is washing it. (For no reason since he never drives it.) He is shirtless and damp, wearing only basketball shorts riding low on his hips. Stiles licks his lips and watches Derek lean over the hood moving the torn up t-shirt in circles, his muscles flexing smoothly underneath his skin. Stiles wants to feel the movement underneath his hands, feel the way Derek is made. Take him apart and put him back together.

Derek looks up after a minute with a wolfish (ha) grin, as though he didn't known Stiles has been standing there with his heart beating loud in his own ears. 

"Hi." 

Stiles manages to croak a greeting back before he pushes up into Derek's space wrapping his arms around his slippery waist and pressing his face into the curve of his neck. Stiles has been wrapped up in finals and it felt like he hasn't seen Derek in forever. But now he is home and he can touch all he wants. Derek wraps his own arms around Stiles shoulders and walks him backwards a little until they were pressed up against the side of the car. 

"I hate you." Stiles squints into the sun and tilts his chin up for a kiss. 

"No you don't." 

Derek cups Stiles head and obliges. They kiss slowly, their mouths slick and sliding together without purpose. The preserve is loud around them and Derek smells like sunshine and Stiles feels content and floaty. He slides his hands down Derek's back pressing his thumbs into the divet right above his ass and pushing the shorts down further gripping with his long fingers and is rewarded with Derek shuddering against him and biting down on his lower lip.  
After that it gets frantic, more teeth and tongue and their hips grinding up against each other both rapidly growing hard. 

"Inside." Stiles pants and drops his head back between his shoulders.

Derek ignores him and bites down hard on the tendon in his neck and sucking. Stiles squeaks and jerks but tilts his neck further for better access. Derek rubs his face against him, his beard rasping against the exposed skin. He skins Stiles shirt up and off with a jerk and a frustrated growl when it gets tangled on his arms. He throws it somewhere behind them and runs his hands down Stiles’ heaving chest, thumbing at his nipple and patting absently at his side. 

With one hand he slides the button out and unzips Stiles’ jeans. He hooks his fingers in the elastic and pushes everything down in one go, knocking Stiles’ flip flops off in the process.

He pushes Stiles back, his palm hot on his chest until Stiles is up against the car again, his dick bobs and leaves a sticky spot on his stomach slicking up his happy trail. 

"Stay." Derek presses once more against him and then leaves him there to rummage around in the car. Stiles strokes himself idly, wondering if he can get sun burn on his dick. 

Derek emerges with one hand up and a triumphant smile. A bright pink, half empty bottle of lube in his grip, it has one of those clips that people use for sanitizer attached. He remembers Erica pressing it in his hand with a laugh on his birthday. _Always be prepared._ Derek hadn't let him clip it to his backpack, (the sourwolf) so it had gotten lost in the confines of the car. 

"I found it when I was cleaning." Derek sets it gently on the hood, waiting with a hand out to make sure it doesn't slide off. When it doesn't, he steps between Stiles legs and grinds up against him gripping his ass and sliding his hands down to his thighs. Without a word he hauls Stiles up and deposits him on the car. Stiles squeaks and grabs hard at Derek's shoulders. 

It feels warm and a bit sticky from where the wax hasn't dried yet. He grimaces and is about to protest until Derek snaps open the lube and starts slicking his fingers without looking away. His eyes are dark and blown wide and Stiles can feel his breathe stutter. He leans back on his hands and spreads his legs. Derek groans and presses two fingers to Stiles hole pulling an answering sound from Stiles. 

Derek's brow furrows and he watches his fingers slide in and scissor with a deep concentration. Stiles huffs out a laugh because it's hot and adorable and his chest tightens with such fondness.

Derek smiles up at him and adds a third, the sound is loud in the clearing and Stiles can hear his blood pounding in his ears. 

"Okay, yeah. Fuck. Right there." He mumbles.

Derek laughs at him and pushes his shorts down just under his balls, his dick slaps up against his stomach and Stiles just wants to taste but he also wants it inside of him. Derek makes the decision by using the last of the lube to slick it up. He hikes Stiles legs up, pressing hard into the meat of his thighs and presses the tip against Stiles greedy hole.

"Wait!" Stiles shouts and it echoes against the trees. "My dad."

Derek frowns at him and his eyebrows furrow, asking without words why Stiles is mentioning his dad right now. 

"He's coming over for dinner. I told him I was getting in and...and.." He is having trouble finishing a sentence as Derek just grins and pushes in pressing Stiles’ legs further back. 

"Then I guess you'll just have to come fast." Derek bottoms out with a rapacious grin and Stiles forgets everything he is thinking and lets his head hang back between his shoulders with one long drawn out moan.

Derek drapes Stiles’ legs over his arms and rests his hands next to Stiles and begins a punishing rhythm. He is able to use his hands and push back against it but mostly he is taking the pounding and cursing loudly between moans. 

Derek manages to look smug and wrecked at the same time. 

"Make yourself come." It's an order and he is subvocal, barely even words and it turns Stiles on more than it should. He gets a hand around his dick and fists it without any rhythm. Letting the push and pull of Derek's body do most of the work. He shudders and comes all across his stomach with a guttural groan. 

Derek's nostrils flare and his eyes bleed blue before he is gathering him close and pounding into his boneless body. Stiles holds on for the ride offering encouragement. 

"Fuck yes, so good. Come on, babe. Do it."

Derek buries his face in Stiles’ neck, his fingers tighten painfully on Stiles’ thighs as he stills against him and comes with a quiet gasp. They stay like that panting and sticky. Derek lets Stiles down gently and lets him lean against him until he can feel his legs. He stays quiet, blinking hazily while Derek puts himself back together and wipes Stiles down. He is rumbling again, a low pleased sound that makes Stiles shiver and grin. 

Derek bites him on the shoulder and Stiles bats him away with a laugh before pulling up his shorts and hurrying into his t-shirt.

"I can hear your dad; he's about 5 minutes away." 

"Good timing. Thank fuck he doesn't have a werewolf sense of smell." 

***

When the Sheriff pulls up and steps out, Stiles is leaning against his jeep texting, probably Scott. He'd always thought they might grow out of each other but it looks like the long haul. Especially after all this supernatural business. He nods at Derek who is wiping idly at the back window of his flashy sports car while staring dazed at Stiles. John laughs under his breath and shakes his head. 

"So. Pizza for dinner?" Stiles hugs him and John lets himself squeeze him a little too hard pushing out an oof. 

"Sounds good." John is resigned to low fat cheese and vegetables whenever his kid is around. He'll probably run through the drive thru after he chokes down whatever healthy excuse for pizza Stiles serves him.

Stiles waves his phone. "I ordered a Meat Lovers and a Pepperoni Lovers.”

John is instantly suspicious. "Am I allowed to eat it?" 

"Of course!" Stiles smiles too wide.

"What are you hiding?" John uses the patented Sheriff squint, crossing his arms.

"Nothing! Nothing!" Stiles squeaks, his face turning red.

"Is anyone in danger?" 

"Uh, no. I promise I will always come to you for that." Stiles looks contrite for a moment, his mouth turning down at the corners. 

"Then what is it?"

"Come on can't I just want to treat my dear old dad. I am frankly truly offended that you think I have a nefarious purpose. I just want to show you I love you. " Stiles puts on his best offended face and out of the corner of John's eye he sees Derek's trying not to laugh, his shoulder's shaking.

"Fine. But I'm also having dessert. Call back and order one of those cookie things." He gestures and raises an eyebrow at Stiles who opens his mouth to protest. 

"Ok. Fine. One Cookie Pizza coming up." Stiles mutters as he mashes at the screen.

John knows something’s going on because his kid is an abysmal liar. But since no one seems in danger of being eaten or time traveling or something, he’ll take his pizza and run with it. 

"Hey son, it's been a while since I've seen you use this. I remember vaguely a police chase, with my son and his best friend." 

John smirks as Derek turns red and glares at Stiles, who is pretending to be enthralled by his jeep's dirty bumper. 

"Yes sir. Just wanted to clean it. Nice day and all." Derek mumbles his eyes downcast.

"Oh. Well you did a fine job.” John circles around to the front and chokes out a mortified laugh. On the hood in sharp relief are a perfect imprint of a bare ass and two sets of smeary hand prints.

"Except here. You missed a spot." 

He ignores his son's loud squawk and lopes up the steps to the house. He is going to need some comfort food to get that image out of his head and he knows Derek keeps chips hidden in the back of his pantry. He also knows they are a bribe to get on his good side, but he's happy to take it. 

Stiles better not say a word.

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr.](http://www.sweetbutterbliss.tumblr.com%22) Say hello, prompt me, shout about sterek. Whatevs.


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